Wystwood

34. A lesson in combat

The liquor scorched down Ada's throat and settled in her stomach, a deathly infusion of spring blossoms licked by fire. A sweet aftertaste lingered in her mouth as Ada gazed around the room. Solen's short hair seemed to catch the candlelight like kindling, and Raeph's shadows flared around his hunched form in a contorting dance. She pushed the glass bottle down the counter. Whatever the fae liquor was distilled from, it was stronger than the fruits of Little Crestbury.

Solen lay in a sprawled mass of leather, spine sloped against the bartop with her feet tumbling down towards the carved out vines and flower stems. She hummed to herself, fingers weaving through the air as if they could catch her bars of music and rearrange their drifting tunes.

Ada watched her fingers work, eyes travelling down to trace the web of scarring that marred her skin. "Are your arms ok?"

"Mmm," Solen replied. "They've seen worse."

The gashes that had torn through Solen's flesh already appeared to be healing, their edges crusted scarlet, blood clotting together and scabbing over the wound. She was recovering as impossibly fast as Raeph's hand had, skin stitching itself back into sheets like no human's ever could.

But even with the rapid healing, Solen's body carried the marks of years' worth of combat. Scars twisted around both of her arms like wreaths of brambles, coiling into one another with a thorny fury. Fresh layered over the old, a thousand shades of red prickling against her skin like gorse armour.

"Would you teach me how to fight?" Ada suddenly asked her. "Like you offered before. I think I want to learn, if I can."

Solen sprang up, her feet sprouting from the flowers and curling beneath. She was grinning, fingertips edging down to the knives still clinging to her waist. "Anyone can learn to fight, but not everyone should."

"I can't say if I should fight, but I know that I want to defend myself." The ebony dagger Ada had brandished within Wysthaven before had only been a tool; a means by which she could threaten, but had never used. Now, Ada desired a weapon.

Raeph hadn't moved for several seconds, the golden coin safely slipped somewhere between his folds of dark clothing. But Solen continued to grin as she studied Ada. "Stand up."

While Ada stood, Solen unfastened her bandolier, letting the trussed blades clatter onto the bar. She perused their glittering edges, her fingers stopping on a smaller knife fashioned from silken silver. Its hilt was carved from walnut wood, with ripples marking its darkened grains. On one side, a sun had been intricately engraved, and on its opposite lay a moon.

Ada shrugged off her cloak and threw it across a stool as she faced Solen. She rolled her shoulders back, attempting a menacing look despite the blush creeping up her neck. Solen shook her head. "No, turn to your side. You want to make yourself a smaller target."

She held out the silver knife to Ada. "Root the hilt into your hand." She flexed her palm, showing where skin should meet wood. "Now drop it to your waist. You'll want to carry the knife close to your hip, somewhere where you won't need too many actions to draw it and where it will be difficult to knock from your hand. Good, now, bend your free arm in front of you. That's your defence. Only use your knife if necessary, but if someone comes too close, strike your elbow up into their throat."

Ada flinched, but nodded, jerking her arm up past her collar. 

"A natural already," said Solen, lounging back onto the bar with a smile. "But I think you need some proper practice with the knife, and for that, you'll need a partner."

She waited for Solen to drop from the bartop, but when the woman made no attempt to move, Ada followed her gaze. She faltered back when she saw Raeph, arms braced against his thighs and watching her lesson with an unnerving scrutiny.